The Greatest Gift
by Kefirah
Summary: Jack discovers that giving Ianto a Valentine's Day gift isn't as easy as it sounds.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **Jack discovers giving Ianto a Valentine's Day gift is not as easy as it sounds.

**Characters**: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen, Rhys, brief mention of Toshiko & Owen, OC

**Pairing**: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys implied

**Rating**: M

**Spoiler**: to be safe, everything up to and including _Meat,_ specifically _Cyberwoman, Out of Time, _TYTNW._  
_

**Setting**: between _Meat_ and _Adam_

**Warnings**: adult language & concepts, swearing, slash sexual content.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters, nor do I receive money from stories. Any similarity to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

**A/N**: I know Ianto has the under-barrel part to his gun as early as _Kiss Kiss Bang Bang,_ and although I researched, I know little about guns and attachments. All errors are my own. Excuse the poetic license. Thanks always to my talented beta, **Triquetralin**.

**The Greatest Gift**

"You bought me a gun attachment?" Ianto stared into the open box on his lap.

"Happy Valentine's Day." Jack smiled.

The look on Ianto's face went from shock to incredulity. "You bought me a gun attachment. For Valentine's Day! _This_ is your idea of romantic?"

"You have been bitch-" Jack shut his mouth and went another tack. "..asking for one for ages. All the others have the under barrel laser, and your gun didn't, so I thought to surprise you."

Ianto stood, the box and its contents spilling onto the floor.

"Careful," Jack bent to pick up the delicate piece of hardware, tucking it into the box again.

"This keeps getting better!" Ianto paced, his hands waving in the air. "You got me a gun attachment, to help me feel like _everyone else,_ as a romantic gift? Jack Harkness, you are one, amazing piece of work, you are!"

Sitting on the sofa, blind-sided, Jack watched Ianto storm away. He had no idea what had gone wrong. Even the card, he thought, was perfect. _Something you've always wanted - Jack._ He tucked it into the box next to the laser scope and went to place the box on Ianto's desk.

As a rule he didn't do gifts and for this one to go so wrong, he was flabbergasted and more than a little hurt and angry. It wasn't like he had bought Valentine's Day presents for everyone, just Ianto. Surely that should have told the young man how he felt.

Shaking his head, he went back to his office, but he couldn't concentrate. The look on Ianto's face kept coming up in his mind. He shoved his chair back, staring at the ceiling as if there were divine intervention from there. Nothing came.

A soft knock interrupted his whirling thoughts. He settled back behind the desk, hoping it was Ianto come to apologize. It was Gwen.

"Oh, hey. What's up?"

Gwen came in, closed the door and leaned against it. She had an odd look on her face and kept looking over her shoulder through the window at something.

"What? I've had my fill of trying to read minds today, so tell me or get out."

"A gun attachment." She said softly, pointing behind her. "I saw on Ianto's desk. Sorry, I'm nosey, you knew that. But, a gun attachment? Are you kidding, Jack?"

"What the hell is wrong with a _very_ expensive laser scope? Would someone please explain it to me?"

Instead of explaining, Gwen fell against the window, laughing. "Oh Jack! You are in such deep shit right now. I pity you!" She let herself out, still chuckling.

Alright, time to take matters into his own hands. Jack grabbed his coat and took the invisible lift up to the Plass. He knew who would give him a straight answer.

The drive, instead of calming him, fuelled his tension. He'd gone out of his way, picked out the scope himself, found a nice romantic – yet manly, card, and he was being treated as if he had wrapped up dog shit. By the time he pulled into the small parking lot in front of the nondescript little office he was fuming. He slammed the SUV door and with his long coat billowing he burst into the tiny office of Harwood's Haulage.

Prim, but motherly, Ruth, sitting at her reception desk just inside the door, jumped and squeaked in fright at his entrance. Seeing who it was she abruptly calmed, taking a moment to surreptitiously check her hair.

"Oh hello Captain Harkness, how may we help you today?" she cooed.

Rhys Williams, the manager of Harwood's, and Gwen's fiancé glanced up from his paper work.

Even with anger radiating off him, Jack knew his manners and took a moment to smile warmly at Ruth. "Hello, Ruth, hope Rhys isn't keeping you chained to your desk all hours of the day."

She simpered, not sure if his comment was meant as a euphemism or not, decided to take it as one and blushed, then blushed some more as she realized maybe she shouldn't, what with Rhys being engaged and all.

"I'm just going to borrow your boss for a few moments. I have some very deep romantic questions to ask him."

This made Ruth blush even harder and she dropped down into her seat, speechless.

"Jack, I'm very busy and in no mood for your flirting." Rhys barked. "Besides I'm still mad at you for making Gwen work overtime this week."

Jack leaned his knuckles on the desk. "I'll see she gets off early for the next three days AND she can have Sunday off, barring desperate Rift activity, if you help me with something. Deal?"

He knew a good offer when he heard one, even if, coming from Jack, it made him suspicious. He stood up and thrust out his hand. "Deal."

Jack shook the offered hand sharply. "Could you come with me for a bit? I need to talk to you," He glanced back at Ruth who quickly went back to retyping the last two sentences of the memo she'd been asked to email. "In private."

"Sure," the burly man eased out from the cramped corner where his desk sat. "Ruth, I'll be back in half an hour or so."

The two men exited the building.

"Coffee?" Rhys asked.

"One of the things I never say no to," Jack winked suggestively.

"Well it's all your going to get from me!" Rhys laughed. He led the way to the street and down the block into a small cafe.

Sitting at a rickety table, a few moments later, both men stirring and fussing with the generic ceramic mugs. Rhys took a sip, then looked meaningfully at his watch.

"Alright, what's up?"

"Valentine's Day," Jack started. Rhys nodded, then interrupted.

"The early days off start today, right? That's part of the deal."

"Alright, alright," Jack waved his hand impatiently. "Good to know _some_one will be shagging tonight."

"Spill the beans, man. I don't have all day. What have you done to get in the shithouse?"

The captain's blue eyes widened. Perceptive of Rhys, but he's been in a relationship with Gwen for years now. Jack couldn't even remember the last time he had thought of the person he was shagging as a "relationship".

"I bought Ianto a Valentine's present. It didn't go over well."

Rhys chuckled into his coffee cup. "Knowing you, probably a gun."

"A gun attachment, actually. An expensive one!" Jack still felt a bit proud of the actual choice. It was a _nice_ gift, dammit.

Coffee spilled across the table as Rhys snorted, nearly dropping the mug completely. "You're joking!"

"That's what Gwen said."

"Oh, man! You are in serious shit."

"Gwen said that as well. And if you don't give me an answer, Gwen's on graveyard shift for a month."

"Alright, mate, no need to get shirty." Still chuckling, Rhys asked. "First question, why'd you buy it? What was going through your mind, yeah?"

"Because I wanted to give him something. Because I know he's been bugging me that his gun doesn't have one and everyone else's does. I didn't buy anyone else anything. I thought he'd appreciate that I noticed something he wanted."

"It's a work weapon, not his own personal collector's gun, correct?"

Jack nodded.

"Okay," Rhys started tapping out points on the table. "First of all, you bought him a work-related gift on a romantic holiday. Second, you bought him something that everyone else has, not something unique. Third," he started chuckling again. "You bought him a _weapon_ on a holiday devoted to love." He shook his head.

Jack thought for a long time. His coffee was cooling by the time he took a worried sip. "But he wanted it."

"No, he needs it. You don't buy something a person _needs_ for Valentine's Day. You buy them something completely ridiculously frivolous, extravagant, utter nonsense, and indulgent. You can do indulgent, can't you?"

Jack grinned, finally seeing the error of his ways. "It's been a long while, but I think I can remember."

"Good man." The burly man threw back the last of his coffee like he was taking a shot of whisky. "I pray to god you can take it from here, because no matter how much I like ye, Jack, I'm not going shopping for indulgence with you."

"What'd you get Gwen?"

"Ah-ah! Now that would be telling, wouldn't it. No cheats and no help."

Jack tugged his mind from where it was gallivanting in a number of different stores in his head. "Yeah, no, you're right. Thanks, Rhys. You've been a great help."

They stood and Jack shook his hand again as they made for the door. "And tell that fiancée of yours that a bit of sympathy goes a long way."

"She laughed her arse off, didn't she?"

Jack nodded.

"That's my Gwen."

"Well I'm just glad Gwen's man is much more accommodating." He flashed his patented flirtatious grin.

"Hey, a deal's a deal. You keep giving me what I want, and I'll give you what you want." With a saucy wink, Rhys turned and stepped up into the Harwood's office.

The salacious captain stood there a moment. Had he just been out-flirted by Gwen's fiancé? Things were looking up. Now if he could only fix what he had so royally screwed up.

What was the most indulgent, ridiculously frivolous thing he could give Ianto?

As he drove away, his mind delved deeply into thoughts of Ianto.

The young archivist had a way with the world. He knew systems, recognized patterns, was astute, observant. He listened to what people said and didn't say. All this helped him slip past Jack's disarming charm, strip him bare. What frightened Jack the most was once he was laid bare, all his faults and dark secrets open to Ianto's shrewd introspection, Ianto never once classified him under the "T.M.I." label. To be honest, Ianto, for all his archival skill, never labelled anyone. Everyone was weighed honestly and openly by their words and deeds.

Which wasn't to say that if your deeds were lacking, Ianto wouldn't condemn you to the seven levels of hell. He could be as ruthless as his captain. And that was something that Jack thought of fondly.

Alright, he admitted it. The things he got mushy about were things that often sent people screaming into the night. Blood spilled was blood shared. He set more value on battlefield passion than marriage. A good rough knock-down fight, grievances not just aired but splattered messily on the wall, got his cock hard. He knew the feel of more weapons than he did bodies. Okay that might be an exaggeration, but the numbers were close for both.

Ianto didn't understand the lust for danger, not as much as the rest of the team. Or maybe the team didn't understand it either but they didn't analyze it. Ianto never went looking for the adventure or the danger, but when thrust into it, he fought hard and brutal. No, not brutal, efficient. Get the job done and get out. Live another day at any cost.

He kept his passions for Jack. The breathless violence, the struggle for control, the letting go of all inhibitions – none of that was in battle where he was cool, determined and methodical. He let it all out for Jack, knowing the captain could handle it.

In the deepest part of himself, Jack knew this was the attraction for him. If there was a "type" that undid Jack to his core, this was it. Added to Ianto's sharp perception that kept Jack on his toes, he knew he would never be bored with this beautiful, enigmatic, passionate man at his side.

Driving through the city, Jack was no closer to an answer. He was stopped at a traffic light, elbow out the window, fingers tugging at his hair as if he could yank the ideas out. Just as the light turned green, a video advertisement on the roof of a building half a block away flashed and caught his attention.

"Give her the gift of time ...". The words scrolled across the screen under an extravagant photo of a beautiful diamond encrusted watch.

Inspired, he immediately found a lane to turn around and headed to the one business that could help him. An hour later, he was set. For the first time, though, he squashed any feelings of overconfidence. Considering how assured he had felt about the last gift, and how disastrously it had gone over, he knew a little humility, however hard to swallow, was in order.

Who says he couldn't change?


	2. Chapter 2

~~2

The Hub was quiet when he got back. Gwen was bent over Toshiko's shoulder, the two of them babbling energetically about whatever was on the screen. Neither woman acknowledged him, for which he was grateful. Passing up into his office, Jack saw Owen hunched over a microscope. Probably analyzing the specimens from the last alien "invasion", half a dozen ankle-tall puffballs that exploded into clouds of spores when touched. He hoped the results of the tests wouldn't show any long-lasting effects from the spores. He really didn't want to have to deal with further complications now.

The spurned gift was gone from Ianto's desk. Jack stopped a moment, wondering where it was, if Ianto had gone so far as to toss it out. And where was that angry archivist anyway? It wasn't like him to avoid an argument. A quick glance at his watch told him if there was to be an argument, maybe he should be instituting his promise to Rhys, as well as letting the others off as well.

He hung his body halfway out his office door and gave an attention-getting whistle. "Hey! Everyone, off home. That's an order."

Owen was the first to react. He rarely questioned his boss's orders, especially ones of dismissal. Putting away his slides and microscope, he had grabbed his coat, with a hasty "Ta-Ra!" before the women had finished processing the command.

"What's the occasion?" Gwen asked.

"Think of me as Cupid." Jack's grin turned into a scowl as Gwen threatened to break into laughter again. "One snigger and the offer's gone."

"Not laughing," she muttered behind her hand. But she quickly took off, waving.

"You too, Tosh. Go find some beautiful soul to bedevil tonight."

The young woman didn't blush. "Are you sure?"

"I doubt I'll be doing anything distracting tonight."

Her eyes told Jack that she had heard about the gift. Damn.

The cog door whooped once more as Toshiko slipped out, the sound finally echoing into silence. And it was silence. Utter silence. He guessed he should have checked to see if Ianto was still in the complex before he sent everyone home.

He went to his computer and ran a quick scan, floor by floor. It took him a few moments but he finally found a presence in the one spot he didn't expect. His eyebrow quirked. With hands stuffed casually in his pockets he trotted down through the many floors to the gun range.

Industrial ear muffs were hanging outside the heavy soundproof door. He grabbed a pair, slapping them over his ears as he opened the door carefully. Gunfire, muffled but distinct. He stepped inside and stood in the back of the room, watching.

Ianto stood at the loading table a few metres away, legs wide, body half turned, arm out. Shot after shot rang out, rapid fire, as he swung his arm back and forth between two targets. Even from this distance, Jack could see the new scope secured under the muzzle of the firing weapon. He tried not to smile. This wasn't the victory.

As it often did, watching Ianto unobserved made his breath catch. He loved the movement of him, his long, graceful limbs, his frugal, restrained motions, the delicate, oh so effective hands.

The shots ceased and the echoes drifted away. Instinctively Ianto knew Jack was there. He ejected the empty ammo chamber, flicked the safety on and put the gun down mindfully on the table before he turned his head, peeling off his ear muffs.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself." Jack dropped his ear protection on the floor and took a few steps closer, hands back in his pockets, going for casual. He knew he had to apologize but the words were sticking in his throat. Finally not wanting Ianto to give in first – unfairly or not, he knew Ianto would apologize – Jack opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, then held his breath. He saw Ianto grin and his heart flipped over.

"World's not ending."

"Wow, who knew?" Jack grinned back.

"Might make you do that more often, then." It was meant as a joke, but it still stung.

Jack sucked in his breath, accepting the hard truth.

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry for that too," he admitted shyly.

"Okay, all's forgiven." Ianto stepped closer, not quite reaching into an embrace, but thigh close enough to brush against Jack's hip. "The scope works great and thank you. I feel like I've got a fully functional weapon now."

Jack's eyebrows shot up, unable to resist the suggestive daring in that comment. "Oh, your weapon's always been fully functional in my eyes."

That was what dipped Ianto close enough to hug. Threading his arms through Jack's, even before he could take his hands out of his pockets, Ianto took advantage of the head start and gave the salacious captain's arse a bountiful squeeze as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Feel like shooting off a few rounds?" he whispered into Jack's mouth, using his breath and tongue to entice.

"God, yes."

"Where are the others?" Ianto's hands were already busy, tugging loose Jack's shirt, fingers sliding up and under, giving in to the temptation of skin before working on the buttons.

"Gone. We have the whole place to ourselves." Jack fumbled at Ianto's tie and collar. It must be a new shirt, the buttons were stiff. He resorted to using teeth as well as fingers, making Ianto laugh.

"Here's good." The force with which Ianto tugged at Jack's trousers brought them both to the ground.

"Oh yeah!"

It always amazed Jack that Ianto never fussed about place. He rolled over and although the stone floor brought a sharp gasp as it touched Ianto's bare arse, it didn't stop his frantic grasping. In fact it seemed to excite him further. The man's body was a furnace, heating them both and they were both soon sweating. Heat and cold, the rough and slick smooth, cloth and skin were all a heady mix.

There was no time for removal of clothes, just shoved off, down and up far enough for access, the tangle against wrists and ankles creating a new sensation of need and struggle. Jack could feel a trickle of anger still left in Ianto as he was pushed and gripped in ways that would leave a lesser man bruised. He pushed back and Ianto's rough laugh told him it was the right move.

As painful as the arguments were, this was good, damn good. He could feel the joy of it burbling up in his gut and he laughed too.

"Do me, come on," he grunted, daring.

Ianto twisted, his legs long enough, that even though his ankles were bound by his dropped trousers, he pried Jack's legs open with his knee and thigh. He grasped Jack's cock, hand wet from sweat only, squeezing and stroking firmly. He saved his breath for action, rarely goading or encouraging with words. Jack knew him, knew what he wanted and needed in these moments. Ianto checked as he realized it was Jack's inability to know what he wanted that had gotten them to this point of make-up sex.

"What?" Jack instantly noticing the brief halt.

"How," Ianto could barely concentrate enough to get the sentence out as Jack's hands didn't stop what they were doing, "do you know so damn well ... ooh shit! ... what I want and need in this, but not other things?"

Jack paused for a moment. "Backwards education, I guess."

That had them both laughing, easing the anger, but not the intensity. Instead of rough and fast, Ianto held Jack down and took him long and deep and slow, drawing it out until Jack's howls nearly deafened them in the echoing chamber. He loved taking him like this, fist on his cock, pulling him over the edge while he planted himself deep, finding that hot core inside that seemed to light his cock like a match head, until he felt he was shooting every fibre of his being into Jack's body.

They melted into the floor, breathless, unmoving. Jack was always the one to recover first.

"Great little weapon you have there," he murmured.

"Little?" Ianto sat up, incensed until he saw Jack's grin. He stroked his nails slow and deliberate along the underside of Jack's cock making him arch. "The under barrel helps my aim," he purred.

The captain shucked out of his clothes, sitting easily on the stone floor, knees up, elbows loose. "Well, I've been set straight," and here he grinned at the pun, "on Valentine gifts."

"By whom?" Eyes wary, a flush crept up Ianto's cheeks. He never liked Jack discussing him with anyone.

"I ... er ... asked Rhys what I did wrong."

"You could have waited until I cooled down to tell you."

"Just so I know his advice was right, what would you have said?"

Feeling a little uncomfortable discussing the advisability of gifts, Ianto tucked himself between Jack's legs, leaning his back against the tall man's smooth, still damp chest, wrapping the long arms around his body. Jack's fingers unconsciously stroked Ianto's nipple.

"If it were anyone else," Ianto admitted, "I might have said you don't buy a weapon on a day of love ..."

"That's what he said! Although I'd like to argue it's not a weapon, as such, it's an aid for a weapon."

"... But, I know you," he shrugged, "and I know me. It's a cool gift. It's just so ... utilitarian, not romantic. Sorry." He hugged Jack's arms to himself.

"Fair enough. Lesson learned."

"You've been in ..." Ianto cut himself off and Jack was sure he knew what the man had started to say, "situations where you gave romantic gifts, haven't you?"

"I've been married twice. Both a long time ago." He could feel Jack shrug. "No excuse, though. I fucked up and I'm willing to make amends."

Ianto snuggled, leaning up to kiss the bottom of Jack's chin. "Amends made and acknowledged."

"Unh-uh. That was just make-up sex. Proper gift is to come."

Ianto pulled out of Jack's embrace, turning a suspicious gaze on him. "What are you scheming?"

"Scheming?"

"Plotting, hatching, calculating ..."

"Good god, such negative connotations. I am intending to set things right, Ianto, not setting nefarious plans in motion."

Ianto started to assemble his clothes, hitching his pants back up around his waist but taking everything else off and folding them neatly over his arm. He was starting to feel uncomfortably obliged to accept bigger and better baubles like a kept boy and he hoped to nip this overcompensation off at the bud.

"Well thank you," he kissed Jack warmly, "but there's no need. I love my gift." He padded over to the table and took his gun, making sure to keep it from brushing against his clothes until he had cleaned it.

Jack watched him go, again feeling thwarted. He had something planned, something better, frivolous and indulgent and Ianto was again snubbing his gift. Could he do anything right?


	3. Chapter 3

~~3

Ianto padded through the passageways lost in thought, knowing just where to step up and down, where to turn, able to give his mind over to whatever problem. And his problem was Jack. What was going through that mad 51st Century mind of his?

They'd been officially dating for a few months. Everything was going well, no major expectations. Now, Valentine's Day gifts.

He hadn't expected romance. Life for them was too frantic and if they had enough time to look at each other and say hello before diving into bed, that was as romantic as it got, which was fine by Ianto. So, why had he gotten so upset at the gift? The moment he had humped off, he had started to regret it. Expressions of disappointment were the first sign of laying down expectations, and in their line of work, expectations were like thumbing your nose at the devil. You took the day as it was and maybe said a little prayer as you fell asleep thankful you were still alive and please, if it wasn't too much trouble could there be a bit more of the same tomorrow, thanks.

So when he had cooled off after his snit he had gone looking for Jack and found a head-shaking, sympathetic Gwen and the package on his desk. He had listened to her long-winded rant about Jack and even longer-winded rave about Rhys, nodding at the right places as he affixed the scope to his gun.

"You're not keeping it, surely?"

"Why not?"

She wrinkled her nose. "You should make him take it back and get you something nicer."

"Make Jack do something?" Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, right! Besides. I like it. I'm tired of having a gun that looks like the baby brother of everyone else's. I just held off buying one because I was damned if I was going to pay my own money for a work-related expense."

"You're the one who manages the receipts and requisitions. You could have easily reimbursed yourself."

He shrugged. "It's not the same. If Jack had given me the money outright for buying one, I would have."

"You have weird ideas about money." She held up her hands. "Sorry, not meant as an insult."

He gave his gun a polish, feeling the new weight of the scope, which fit very nicely and stream-lined against the muzzle. "I better go do some practice with this."

Now, Ianto couldn't help but wonder, what was Jack up to?

He padded into the shower room and stopped at his personal locker. It was not too large a room, space for four showers, a bench on the back wall and wide individual lockers in the hallway leading in. He tossed his dirty laundry into a pillowcase tucked at the bottom of his locker and pulled out a clean pair of trousers, shirt and underclothes. He shucked out of his pants and, grabbing his towel, continued into the shower area.

Jack has bought something else, Ianto thought, but what? With all that advice, of course, he would have gone right out and looked for something else.

The scope was expensive, he knew that. He knew the cost of every replaceable item in the Hub. Expensive, but practical. What would Rhys have suggested?

He thought of the Valentine's Day gifts he and Lisa had given each other. Money hadn't been much of an object. The good thing about working for Torchwood, whether it was One or Three, was you had very little money worries. But still they had limited themselves to cute private jokes and presents, splashing out for a nice dinner or a weekend holiday.

He stopped in mid-scrub. A holiday away? No. Not Jack. They had no time for it. Gwen would not be pleased with Jack haring off again _and_ taking Ianto with him, leaving just three-fifths of the team to deal with the Rift. What if something big came up? Despite Jack taking off out of the blue last year, he had gotten that out of his system and giving up control of Torchwood was not something he would do lightly anymore.

No, it was probably something more bizarre and extravagant. Massive jewelry? He thought of himself bling-ed out like a rap singer and laughed. A new car? No, Torchwood had bought him one when John Evans had committed suicide in his just before Christmas a year ago.

By the time Ianto had finished washing, drying and dressing, he still had no idea. He wondered if he should head home or go and face the music and see what Jack was trying to offer him. It wasn't until he was halfway back to Jack's office that he realized something vital. All this fuss and he hadn't gotten Jack anything.

He swore to himself. All the trouble Jack was going to, to try give him something and he had just dismissed the idea thinking that Jack didn't "do" Valentine's Day. Life with Captain Jack was just so separate from what he thought of as a normal life that it hadn't even crossed his mind to "do" a normal Valentine's Day with him, like it would have with someone else.

Shit. Well nothing to be done about it now.

Jack was back in his office, redressed in wrinkled clothes. Ianto was showering, obviously needing time to himself, so Jack hadn't followed him to the showers, just brushed himself off and redressed. Sure he smelled of sex and was more than a little sticky, but who did he have to impress – Myfanwy, the pteranodon? Besides, they might be back in bed again soon.

Unless, he thought, Ianto wants to go out for dinner? Well, he'd have a quick shower later then.

All this thinking today had exhausted him. He hadn't spent so much time second-guessing himself in years.

He looked at the gift he had finally chosen as the "right" one for Valentine's Day and tried to decide what to do with it. Ianto was going to be stubborn about accepting anything else, no matter what it was. Perhaps he could put it away and bring it out on another occasion. Ianto's birthday? That was too far off.

No, dammit, he wanted to give it now. It was his admission of learning how to do things right. He only wished he could take the scope back and give it to Ianto on his birthday, but that was impossible. A mad idea of dosing Ianto with Retcon, taking the scope back and starting over tomorrow crossed his mind.

He scrubbed his face, screaming silently to himself. He was starting to get a headache.

The sound of footsteps on the metal walkway alerted him to Ianto's approach. He quickly stuffed the present into his top desk drawer and locked it.

Ianto stood just inside the office door, matching Jack's earlier pose, hands in his pockets. There was something odd about seeing him in the Hub with shirt collar and cuffs loose, no tie or jacket, but Jack was used to him in so many ways and moods now.

"It's still early for dinner," Ianto said, swinging his foot nervously. "But, I realized, stupidly I haven't gotten you anything. May I take you to dinner, see if I can get a table at Alonso's?"

Jack was about to say that Ianto didn't have to, but then decided accepting might give him the pull he needed to get him to accept this new gift. He groaned inwardly. He _was_ scheming!

"Sure, that would be nice. I'll shower in a bit."

Ianto went off to make the call.

Alonso's was a beautiful, quiet little restaurant, stuck in a corner block, with no more than ten tables. There was never a menu, just two different choices each night, exquisite food served in four courses. Tonight the main dishes were_ orecchiette con rapini e prosciutto, _a type of pasta with broccoli and ham, or _cacciucco_, a fish stew.

Giving Jack a glance, Ianto ordered the _orecchiette_ for himself and the _cacciucco_ for Jack. "And a bottle of the house red, please." He happened to know they served a lovely _Dolcetto_.

They sat comfortably in the dim restaurant, legs stretched out under the table, ankles caressing.

Alonso, himself, brought the wine over to their table, solicitous but not fawning. He was a short, sentimental man with a big smile and even bigger, floppy ears, a receding hairline and increasing belly.

"Ah, _signore Jack e signore Ianto_! It is so good to see you! What a night for _amore_, eh?" The portly man put the bottle under one arm to gesture passionately, somehow encompassing the moon outside, the beautiful restaurant and the two men in front of him. He then expertly opened the bottle and poured the wine, all the time burbling with excitement half in Italian and half in English with a bizarrely accented Welsh word thrown in every once in a while.

"Oh, my grandson, he remind me of you," Alonso stroked and squeezed Ianto's reddening cheek affectionately. Although he was used to the old man's effusive emotions, it still made him nervous. "But he travel, so much travel! All over the world he go. I never see _fy machgen, caro mio_! Some day I think he will go to _le stelle_! Aii!"

The little man clutched the wine bottle to his heart at the anguished thought of his beloved grandson leaving him, but in a flash remembered where he was. With an embarrassed chuckle he put the bottle down, and with one last pat on Ianto's face, he left to see to their meal.

Jack hid his smile behind the wine glass.

"You love when he does that, don't you?" Ianto grimaced, but there was no bite in the question. Alonso was too sweet a man to be angry with.

"_Caro mio_," Jack murmured, just loud enough to be heard and Ianto's heart leapt.

"_Fy nghariad._"

The words came easier in another language. Both men knew it. Sometimes in the middle of the night as Ianto drifted off to sleep he would hear a quiet whispered phrase, a lilting benediction, never fully grasped, just slipping in under his consciousness. He never let on that he heard, never asked what the words meant.

So many words said between them and so many more unspoken.

"How's Rhys?" Ianto leapt off the track his mind was going down, not wanting to be maudlin.

Jack smirked. "Flirtatious."

Ianto nearly choked on his wine. "Rhys? You're kidding! Gwen will flip! Go on, what'd he say?"

Jack recounted the conversation he'd had with Gwen's fiancé.

"Sometimes I can't believe they're getting married," Jack mused. The arrival of the food distracted him from seeing the flush in Ianto's cheeks. By the time the waiter left, Ianto's face was calm again. His voice wasn't as cool as he thought, though.

"Rhys is a good man. They're perfect for each other. I didn't think so before the space whale thing, but that proved it."

Jack grumbled under his breath. "Yeah, well. Still think she should have given him Retcon."

"Let it go, Jack," Ianto said in a long-suffering voice. He'd heard this argument many times.

"Humph."

"You're like a grumpy old man who doesn't get his rice pudding for teas, sometimes!"

Jack leaned back in his chair. "Sometimes I feel as old as I am, Ianto. The memories all back up in my head and spill out like a flood and it's very overwhelming. I wish I could take Retcon myself, some days."

The young clerk paused, his fork in the air, the blood going cold in his veins. "You'd forget everything? Torchwood?" He whispered the next word. "Us?"

"Yes, sometimes." He noticed the pain in Ianto's face and swore mentally. "No, not us! Oh, I don't know. Ianto, it's not easy having so much life, so many memories. So many losses."

Jack could see the young man staring at him and he couldn't quite interpret the expression. He went on a different tack, trying to get him to understand.

"Wouldn't you? I mean, didn't you want to forget it all, after Lisa? If I hadn't hidden all the Retcon, would you have taken some?"

"No."

It was Jack's turn to look incredulous.

"I never went looking for it. Not once. I want to keep every one of my memories, Jack. That's the difference between us. No matter how bad it gets, I always want to know and remember."

Ianto knew how bad it could get. Memories of Jack and the others gunning down what was left of Lisa. It couldn't get worse than that. He still had nightmares about it. And yet his entire relationship with Jack hinged on Lisa.

He'd lied to Jack to get hired, secreted Lisa's half-Cyberman body into the Hub, kept her hidden there, struggling to cure her. The day she was discovered, when she tried to kill everyone in Torchwood, when Jack and the others finally killed her – it was the worst day of Ianto's life. But even then, Jack was inextricably a part of him, woven into his existence. They needed each other more than either one wanted to admit and loved each other more than either one would ever say.

"When the losses add up, Ianto, you may change your mind." Jack's eyes were dark, haunted. "It's not easy loving someone when you know you're going to lose them."

Ianto put down his fork, again, a clouded look on his face. "Sometimes, Jack Harkness, you can be the most selfish, hypocritical bastard on the planet."

Jack nearly choked. Recovering, he wiped his mouth and stared across the table, his face red with the effort of not shouting. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"How many friends and lovers have you had in the past hundred years or so?"

A look of pain crossed Jack's face. "Too many to count."

"Well, I've had two. And how many times have you lost each one of them?"

"What?" He was confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how many times have you lost each lover, wife, friend? I bet once. My point is, you've lost each one of them once. You lived, you loved, they died. Am I right? Or sometimes you left them because it's so painful to be with them, right?"

Jack stared but didn't say anything.

"I've lost Lisa twice." Ianto stopped to let that sink in. His heart was racing and he had to concentrate to keep his voice down.

"And you, Jack, I've lost three times. Three fucking, heartbreaking times when I didn't know if I was going to get you back. And when I did, it made the next time worse. And the third time was your own bloody selfishness, taking off without a word, then waltzing back and expecting everything to go back to the way it was. You don't do that to a person, Jack." He sighed heavily. "Or at least you don't do that to a person and then complain about how fucking painful it is to love someone you're going to lose. We're all in the same boat. That's what life is all about, loving and losing. You don't have a monopoly on it just because you've been at it longer than anyone."

Realizing how hurtful he was being, Ianto cut his words off, staring at his plate. He waited until his heart slowed to normal and his breathing had calmed before he looked up again. Jack hadn't moved. He sat there blinking, his expression blank. Ianto instantly felt remorse.

"I'm so..."

"Don't you dare apologize, Ianto."

The young man's mouth snapped shut again.

They sat there quietly. When Jack went back to poking at his food, Ianto picked up his fork, but he too, couldn't eat.

"You're right," Jack finally said. "The good outweigh the bad. And I never, ever want to forget you."

"Just try," Ianto smirked around a mouthful of pasta.


	4. Chapter 4

~~4

The walk back to the Hub was quiet. Two arguments in one day, Jack mused. As they approached the water tower, he dug his hands into his deep coat pockets. Might as well go for broke. Stopping in front of the tower, a step or two away from the Hub's secret lift – hidden from public view by an alien perception filter – he waited for Ianto to turn to face him.

"Are you coming in with me?" Jack asked.

Taking a step closer, Ianto matched Jack's casual stance, rocking slightly towards him. With a glance that was flirtatious yet apologetic, Ianto shook his head. "Not tonight, if you don't mind. It's been a tumultuous day, yeah?"

"Yeah." Jack tried not to appear disappointed. There would be other days of make-up sex. Before Ianto could lean in and kiss him good night, he tugged out the thing he had been keeping in his pocket all night and held it out.

"What's this?" Ianto looked warily at the thin envelope in Jack's hand.

"The better present."

"Oh, Jack," Ianto sighed. "You're determined to head down that path, aren't you?"

"Which path?"

"Normal."

"I've tried it before." Jack gazed at his feet, letting a small smile touch his lips. "It didn't completely suck. And besides, if I'm to stop living in the past, or dreading the future, I should be making memories with you, here and now. You deserve those at least, instead of interruptions and missed chances."

"I love what we have, Jack. How many times do I have to say it? I love that it's different, that we fit so damn well together without conforming to society's expectations." Ianto leaned into Jack's body, sliding his hands up between the long coat and Jack's back, his favourite spot.

"Look," Jack's lips touched Ianto's neck, the words causing jolts of pleasure, "If it wasn't all this Valentine's Day craziness, would it be any easier?"

"Maybe."

"Okay," Jack glanced at his watch. "It's after midnight. Not Valentine's Day. Will you open the present now?"

"You're impossible," Ianto smiled.

"So are you. It's another reason we fit so well."

Ianto pulled away enough to open the envelope, their heads together as he shuffled through the pieces of paper. At first Ianto wasn't clear what it was. In the shadow of the water tower it was too dark to see all of the writing.

"Rhys told me ridiculously frivolous, extravagant, utter nonsense, and indulgent," Jack explained. "But time alone with you will never be utter nonsense. Will you go?"

Held up under the glow of one of the nearby spot lights in the Plass, the writing started to make sense – two airline tickets and hotel accommodations for four days in a place called Formentera.

"Okay I lost a bet with myself." Ianto admitted. "In the shower, I went through every gift you could possibly give and a holiday away was the first thing I dismissed."

Jack grinned, glad to have surprised Ianto. "So? Will you go?"

Ianto looked up, dread creasing his face. "It's not on some deserted planet somewhere is it? I'm not travelling by rift for my hols!"

"Silly, it's on Earth. It's perfectly legitimate." Jack waggled his eyebrows. "Nude sunbathing is allowed on almost all the beaches."

"Well, where is it? Do we need shots? Extended medical insurance?"

"Oh for goodness sake, what difference does it make where it is?" Jack paced in frustration. "I'll only ask you this once more. Will you fucking go on a god-damned holiday with me?"

Ianto was squinting at the small print in the brochure, reading it intently, dragging out the moment. The instant he saw Jack's hand come up to snatch the brochure out of his hands, he danced out of reach, laughing. "Yes, I'll go."

Jack caught Ianto around the waist. The papers were crushed between them as he pulled him in tight, kissing and nibbling at Ianto's laughing mouth. "Now, admit I'm the king of romance."

"We'll see, when we get to this mysterious _Foor-meen-teeerraaa._" He drew the name out experimenting with the vowels in a way that had Jack's cock jumping.

"If you must know, it's Ibiza's little brother island, off the coast of Spain. White beaches, blue Mediterranean Sea," Jack caressed Ianto's cheek, brushed his fingers over Ianto's blue eyes and stroked his hand lower and lower. "And did I mention the nude sunbathing?"

"I'd better buy plenty of sunblock then." Ianto smoothed out the tickets and brochure, tucking them neatly back into the envelope. "When are we going? I need make some packing lists, get supplies and everything sorted. And more important, when are you going to tell Owen that Gwen is in charge again?"

Knowing Ianto well, Jack didn't argue about the need to get organized. "I booked for Monday. I promised Rhys that Gwen would have short days and Sunday off."

Ianto laughed. "Good enough. Let's not tell anyone until Sunday. I don't want Owen griping at me for three days."

"Agreed."

Ianto leaned back into Jack again, giving him a long, passionate kiss, then slipped the envelope carefully in his pocket.

The next morning, climbing up out of his private cubbyhole quarters, Jack noticed that Ianto was already at work, his suit jacket thrown over his chair and the hissing sound of the coffee machine coming from the kitchenette. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans wafted through the Hub. Jack smiled and trotted down the steps from his office, anticipating getting the first cup of Ianto's coffee. He stopped only for a moment when he saw the brochure for Formentera taped to a post next to Ianto's computer. With a bigger grin, he skidded around the corner of the kitchenette.

Ianto jumped and frothy milk spattered everywhere. "_Cachu_! Jack! Shit, you startled me!"

"I think that was the first Welsh word I learned when I got here." Jack dipped his finger into the blob of milk froth that was in Ianto's hair. "You haven't come very far in teaching me more. Bit of a failing on your part, wouldn't you say?"

"If I was positive you wouldn't use them in the most inappropriate places, you'd be hearing a lot more dirty words coming out of my mouth. As it is, I have to bite my tongue half the time."

"You could bite mine." Jack winked and leaned in for a kiss.

It was at that moment that Owen arrived, and having followed his nose to the kitchenette, he immediately wished he hadn't.

"Oh god, you two!" Owen turned around again. "Not even for coffee will I watch you two snog."

That was the last chance Jack and Ianto had for affection that day. The Rift Predictor went off an hour later and the team scrambled to the SUV, heading north to Caerphilly.

The next day was even busier. As Sunday loomed closer, Jack started to worry he would have to renege on his promise to Rhys and make Gwen work. As it was, no one had gone home early for the past two days.

The team was slumped in the board room late that night, trying to process a complicated and fruitless mission. They had split up into teams – Gwen and Owen racing through The Castle Arcade, Jack and Ianto running through the same area but underground in the sewers, following an alien signature that kept fading while Toshiko coordinated the search from the Hub, via the CCTV's and the data coming in from both teams' scanners.

No one had known what they were looking for and tempers were frayed as everyone argued whose fault it was that the alien – if there was one – had gotten away.

"You went right past the spot twice, Owen. Why didn't you turn around when I told you?" Toshiko yelled, quite out of character. It had the others staring at her, silenced by surprise. Except for Owen.

"Excuse me for not following three different commands yelled at me from all directions. How the hell am I supposed to know who to listen to?"

Jack slammed his fist on the table. "Enough! Owen, you're supposed to be listening to Tosh, when she's directing the search." Owen didn't like that order. Jack cut him off with a swift gesture. "But he's right. There was too much chatter going on over the lines. Next time, everyone shut up unless you've found something.

"Tosh, tomorrow let's run through those scans again and see if we can use them to find traces of what we were looking for. We'll have another look, at a more ordered pace, when that's done."

"I can start on it tonight." Tosh said.

"No. Everyone, go home. We'll start again tomorrow."

"Thank Christ! Sitting next to you and Ianto is making my eyelashes melt. You couldn't have showered before we started the meeting?" Owen held his nose and made a bee-line for the door.

Ianto, a lot more fastidious than Jack, took the barb to heart. He pointedly backed away as Gwen and Toshiko exited, not quite as quickly as Owen, but not hesitating either.

Jack was still sitting at the head of the large conference table when Ianto stopped at the door.

"Want to have a shower with me?"

"Go home, Ianto."

"Only if you come with me."

Jack's eyes looked tired. He brushed his hand through his hair, then regretted it as he felt something sticky. He smiled, not his usual lascivious grin, but still eager. "Shower first, then."


	5. Chapter 5

~~5

The captain's mood perked as he followed Ianto down into the depths of the many-levelled Hub, to the point where he was soon racing Ianto through the hallways. He slipped into the locker room just before Ianto.

The one thing that Ianto could never seem to beat Jack at was undressing. The sexy captain had it down to an art, and Ianto figured there had to be some secret futuristic fastenings in Jack's seemingly old-fashioned clothes for him to get them off so fast. Ianto had his trousers and pants at his ankles and was still tugging off his shoes when Jack raced past, snapping his towel at Ianto's bare arse.

"Ow!" Ianto laughed.

Jack was under the shower, letting the water rinse out his hair when Ianto slipped in beside him. Taking up the bar of soap and a flannel cloth, Ianto started soaping Jack's back, scrubbing firmly in the way he liked.

"Mm, that feels good."

Ianto was thorough, moving the soapy cloth up around the nape of Jack's neck, over his shoulders, under his arms and working his way down. He enjoyed watching the soap leaving trails down Jack's long legs. Moving to the front, Ianto re-soaped the flannel and started on Jack's chest.

"I can do my front," Jack tried to take the cloth from Ianto, feeling a little too pampered.

"I know. Let me, anyway."

Jack tilted Ianto's chin for a long, lingering kiss.

As he was washed and scrubbed, Jack felt guilt building up inside him. The way things were going with work, he would have to postpone the holiday. The more he thought about it, the more of a shit he felt. He hated making promises because he hated breaking them, but the only thing certain with Torchwood was the uncertainty.

As Ianto reached up to shampoo Jack's hair, the captain pulled him into his arms, his body still slick with soap. His cock hardened against Ianto's warm body as he pressed closer. The worst of the sewer stink had rinsed off but Ianto still smelled of male sweat. Jack's libido kicked in and he pushed the man to the wall, his mouth hungry on Ianto's skin.

"I'm not clean yet," Ianto pushed back.

"Fuck clean," Jack growled. "You smell like you." He ran his tongue down Ianto's wet neck, across his shoulder and into his armpit, making the young man squirm. Continuing down, Jack dropped to his knees and took Ianto's half-hard cock in his mouth. He tasted salt and sweat and moaned in pleasure, the vibrations making Ianto's back arch.

They were out of the spray of the water, the air in the large concrete room cool on their heated skin. Ianto buried his fingers in Jack's hair, his hips bucking into the hot mouth. Jack always took him, all of him, and Ianto never could rein in his movements when he felt the tip of his cock bumping the back of Jack's throat. He always wanted it to last forever, but Jack was always too good and often too hungry to go slow. Later they would take the time, but right now, all needs were converging into one explosive moment.

"Jack!" It was all Ianto had time for, all Jack needed to know that Ianto was on the edge. He focused his tongue just there on that one spot on the underside of Ianto's glans and stroked his fingers behind. He had barely taken a breath when he felt the hot stream of come shooting down his throat.

The wall and Jack's shoulders against his legs were all that kept Ianto from falling. He blinked blearily, his shouts still echoing in the cavernous room. He glanced down to see Jack still licking and sucking his cock and nearly burst with another orgasm. There was no such thing as post-coital lethargy when Ianto was with Jack. Every action created an equal reaction inside him. He wondered frivolously if Jack was the long-lost, perpetual motion machine.

"Enough showering." Ianto's voice was rough with desire. "I want you in my bed."

"Sounds good to me."

They dried and dressed in record speed, this time Ianto finishing first as he threw on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt. Jack's eyebrows quirked at the very unusual attire for his clerk.

"No pants? I better drive to keep my hands and mind busy." Jack teased.

They kissed all the way up the "invisible lift", using the properties of the perception filter to keep them hidden for a few moments at the top of the Plass. Not that they needed to worry. There wasn't a soul around.

Ianto slid into the passenger seat of his own car, tossing the keys to Jack. He was never one to argue with his captain when it came to matters of practicality, but seeing the tall man shift in the seat, his trousers tight over the definite bulge, Ianto wasn't sure he could keep his hands to himself. Without even thinking, he stroked Jack's inner thigh. The engine roared as Jack's leg twitched. Ianto snatched his hand away, afraid they would crash. Jack hadn't even pulled out of the parking space yet.

"Put your hand back," Jack ordered.

"Don't crash." Ianto grinned, his fingers moving back. This was the kind of dangerous living he enjoyed. Despite his caution, he knew Jack would get them to his house alive. "Oh god, I'm doing what Owen always accuses us of doing!"

"Good!" Jack accelerated to avoid a red light. "I don't like the idea of any of my team being a liar."

Ianto snorted.

They made it to Ianto's house without any mishap. If Jack parked a little askew on the kerb, Ianto didn't care. The stairs to Ianto's bedroom were festooned with discarded clothes.

"Hardly seems worthwhile dressing just to drive, in the middle of the night with no one to see us." Jack said.

"Some forms of societal propriety must be adhered to." Ianto replied, even as his mouth was busy with Jack's nipples.

"Oh god, how do you do that?" Jack pushed Ianto to the bed, climbing on top of him. "It's like your libido is connected to your verbal centre. You could probably talk me to an orgasm."

Ianto chuckled. "Now that's an experiment I would be willing to engage in."

"Gives new meaning to the phrase 'talk dirty to me'."

Ianto reached between their bodies and gripped Jack's thick cock, stroking it firmly. His teeth found Jack's earlobe. "I'll stick with the old definition for now. Fuck me, Jack! Fuck me until I'm ready to come again."

A passionate grunt was Jack's reply but neither of them needed words now. Jack always spoke more eloquently with his actions. He cradled Ianto's back with one arm, pushing the young man's legs open with his knees. Ianto arched, locking his ankles across the small of Jack's back. With just spit and sweat, Jack stroked his fingers against Ianto's arse, then slid one in. It went in easily. Ianto begged for more. Another finger and Jack knew Ianto was ready. He added more spit to his cock and slid in.

There was no teasing tonight. Jack's energy would be spent on what he loved to do, long-lasting strokes that could spin them both into a glorious state of bliss. He thrust hard and steady, filling Ianto with his cock even as Ianto's groans filled Jack's mouth as they shoved together.

Face-to-face, Jack never closed his eyes. He loved the moment when his body was aware of every little detail – the flash of Ianto's eyes, the way his mouth moved when he smiled or moaned, the clenching of Ianto's legs around his waist, the deep heat of him, the sweet-salt taste, the wet, sticky slap of skin against skin.

Ianto gripped the headboard, his head back, eyes closed. He could feel Jack's eyes on him but there was no self-consciousness. How did things get so good? It was just supposed to be sex, lust and release. It was just a cock in his arse and yet, every thrust shot waves of pleasure through him that he had never felt with anyone. It was Jack. Jack was that indefinable thing that made his messed-up, little life so damn perfect. And he wasn't going to ask questions, push, or demand, because he was happy.

He grasped Jack around the neck, pulling him closer even though they were already plastered so wetly together. Opening his eyes, he instantly fell into the sky blue of Jack's gaze. Those eyes made him dizzy – star-shot and so ancient, deep with passion, wracked with age. Jack's body would never grow old but his eyes held centuries in them. This was what made Ianto love him.

Jack's movements sped up.

Arching against him, Ianto had his cock pressed and rubbed hard between them. He felt wound tighter and tighter like the spring of his ancient, beloved stopwatch, with Jack's thumb on the button. Groaning into Jack's mouth, Ianto's thrusts lost their rhythm so that they came together randomly, rough and frantic. Far from cutting the passion, it created a frenzied need for release.

Between one stroke and the next, Jack came with a violent growl, surprising himself. Still deep inside Ianto, he took hold of Ianto's cock and that was all it took. Come spurted between their chests.

Ianto stretched his legs down as Jack's softening cock slid out of him. He held the heavy body on top of him, enjoying the warm weight, knowing that Jack would move off long before Ianto felt squished or claustrophobic. It was another thing he liked, that he never got enough of Jack touching him.

The two men lay in the darkness quietly. Jack didn't sleep and he thought if he was quiet enough Ianto would drift off. He didn't want to talk about their trip, not now, feeling it would put a damper on the moment. But he knew Ianto wasn't asleep.

Ianto wasn't asleep because he knew Jack. There was something lingering in the captain's mind and Ianto had a feeling he knew what it was. He turned over. In the dim room, Jack's pale skin seemed to glow. Ianto used to think it was a trick of the light, or a sex-induced hallucination, but he knew it was another thing that made Jack unique. He leaned his chin on Jack's shoulder, his fingers tracing absently over Jack's chest.

"Tell me," he said.

Jack sighed. "I have to postpone our trip."

"Hm-mm. I know."

"I'm sorry."

Ianto bit back a grin. That apology came so easily that Jack didn't even notice it. "I know."

"I'll see if I can re-book for next week."

"All right."

"Stop being so damn accommodating!" Jack sat up, flopping forward, elbows on his thighs, face in his hands. "This is not at all what I wanted."

Ianto paused for a while, then said quietly, "I know. I'm sorry you're upset."

"Why aren't you angry?"

"Because I'm not."

"You knew this would happen. Even when I gave you the tickets, you didn't get excited because you knew we'd end up not going."

"Hey," Ianto pushed himself up, a scowl furrowing his brow. He turned Jack's chin, forcing Jack to face him. "I was excited. You know I want to go. You also know this job takes plans and steps on them."

"We are going." Jack's expression turned stubborn.

"I believe you."

"I feel a 'but' lurking."

"But ..." Ianto curled around Jack's arm. He could taste the warm salt on his skin as he pressed his lips to the hard shoulder. "I don't need to be away somewhere with you. I just need you. As long as I can see you, even if I'm looking across a thousand people and we're up to our arses in aliens, I'm happy."

Jack kissed the damp hair, then pushed them both back down on the bed again. He propped himself up, gazing deeply into Ianto's eyes.

"Sweet talker." He saw Ianto's smile and could see it went deep. "You really are happy."

He could hardly believe it. All the lovers and wives and husbands of his past, he knew few that stayed happy. Some he had for too short a time to feel that deep contentment. Some stayed with him but he watched their eyes grow suspicious and afraid with age, even as he stayed the same. A number of them left, too afraid to stay. Those that didn't know his work with Torchwood resented his time away. Lovers he found within Torchwood either died too soon or became gun-shy, battle-scarred and ran off for something more sane.

Ianto fit into Torchwood in ways that others didn't. He created his job, filling niches that Jack hadn't even known existed. He did that with Jack's heart also, filling niches that Jack hadn't known were empty, or forcing his way into gaping holes of pain and settling in like a soothing balm.

Jack was aware that a light as bright as Ianto could catch the attention of some Fate and be cruelly snuffed out. It was what made him desperate for more – more time, more normality. Against all his instincts he was falling in love with this man and he could feel the panic nearly drowning him some days.

Lying in Ianto's bed, the waxing moon and clouds blanketing shadows over them, the room still thick with the heated scent of sex, Jack knew that "normal" would never fit on Ianto Jones.

"You're my gift, Ianto."

Day after day the brochure taped to the post next to Ianto's computer, with the bright, sun-kissed sands of Formentera grew dim and tattered. But Ianto's smile, every time he looked at it, never faded.


End file.
